


Here To Rescue You

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron's opportunity to leave the desk job after an injury arises.  He's excited about it, until he finds out his new task is to <i>protect Malfoy.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Here To Rescue You

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to stephaniejo84 for the last minute beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine!

**Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein aren't mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

Head Auror Potter hesitantly walked into Ron Weasley’s office and placed a file in front of him. Ron looked up at his friend, and boss, wondering what the reluctance was all about. 

“Ron, I’ve got good news and bad news,” Harry said, sitting in the empty chair across from him. 

“I’ll take the good news first!” Ron answered excitedly. He had been on desk duty for the past six months ever since an injury that nearly cost him his life. He had been on a heist with Harry and several other Aurors when they came across a Dark Object, and Harry was about to touch it when Ron jumped it and saved Harry’s life—eventually causing him to be blasted away with a broken ribcage, and his right hip fractured. 

He was on bed rest for four months and on desk duty ever since then. He’d insisted that he was ready for fieldwork again, but many people at the Ministry weren’t sure about it. 

“I’ve got you a little bit of fieldwork,” Harry said, smiling at Ron’s apparent excitement. “There’s a wizard that requested our protection. It’s not much, just twenty-four hour guard duty, but it’s away from—”

“I’ll take it!” Ron said before Harry could finish talking. He was willing to take _anything_ —so being a bodyguard for some rich fat wizard was definitely a step up from the mundane filing of reports. Ron wasn’t sure if that was the case, but he reckoned with his luck it would have been.

Ron was aware that the Aurors sometimes provided security for famous wizards that travelled from gala to gala. There was always someone ready to kidnap them or harm them—they believed—and were willing to pay the Ministry a huge donation in name of one charity or other for their safety. Ron expected it to be an easy task, nonetheless, it was outside and he needed that. He needed the fake sense of danger over being cooped up in an office day in and day out for two months.

“Who is it?” Ron asked. His heart leaping with enthusiasm, he thought of several famous wizards that he’d read about in the _Prophet_ , and he was already mentally planning his list of things to pack, since he’d probably be living in the wizard’s home.

“That’s the bad news,” Harry said, avoiding eye contact. “It’s Malfoy...Draco Malfoy.”

“Malfoy, I really hope you’re joking, Harry.”

“Unfortunately, I am not. He’s gone through private security companies and it seems no one will work with him. So now he’s turned to the Ministry. I’ve spoken to some of the companies he’d hired—the private companies—I’ve talked to most of the guards that worked with him. They find him insufferable. He’s donated over a thousand Galleons to the St Mungo’s Orphanage and requested the Minister himself for a personal guard. I can’t do anything about it and I thought that maybe—”

“You think I haven’t suffered enough?” Ron asked, interjecting.

Harry chuckled for a brief moment. “No, I thought that if _anyone_ could actually handle him, it would be you. You can be just as offensive to him as he to you and I think maybe he’ll—”

“Actually let me go as opposed to me quitting?” Ron’s voice was excited again. “That’s brilliant, Harry. Then the Ministry will _know_ that I am ready for fieldwork and that I would take whatever job they provided me with. That’ll mean—”

“No more desk job, Ron.” Harry was beaming at him and Ron knew that he was only trying to spin the story to his liking, but he let it go. He really would take any job and this wasn’t that bad of a plan, actually.

*-*-*

When Ron arrived at Malfoy Manor two days later, he was greeted by a house-elf at the gates and was escorted into the house. He sat on a sofa in the sitting room and took in the whole room. He hadn’t been there in over ten years. The last time he had, he’d nearly been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.

He tried not to think about it. It wouldn’t be that difficult either, because the house looked completely different than what he’d remembered. The room where he sat was the very room Hermione was tortured in, but it wasn’t dark and gloomy like his memory had served. 

The room consisted of vibrant colours, the curtains exuded springtime and there wasn’t anything dark about the room. Ron looked up at the ceiling and saw a huge chandelier, nothing like he’d ever seen before. He spread his arms and realised that it was as wide as his hands could stretch. Its central design was accented by an oak leaf motif and was surrounded with crystal droplets. The lampshades—where countless amounts of candles floated—were made of an ivory coloured fabric with a braiding design. It was the fanciest thing Ron had ever seen, and that included all the numerous amounts of Ministry galas Ron had attended in the most lavish hotels.

Ron wondered how the rest of the Manor looked but refrained from showing any more interest. He figured he’d have to inspect the property eventually when he was fully on the job.

“Weasley?” Ron heard Malfoy’s voice from behind him; he stood and turned immediately. His wand in hand. “Ready to attack me already?” Malfoy sneered.

“Malfoy,” Ron said in the most polite tone he could muster. “The Ministry has sent me on behalf of your request for protection.” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter?” he asked, struggling to not just storm out immediately. He’d only seen Malfoy for all of ten seconds and he was ready to strangle him. 

“I don’t _need_ protection!” Malfoy said with disgust. “Mother insists upon it.”

“Why?”

“I’ve received some threatening letters and one of them had a magic spell that knocked me unconscious for several hours. Mother insists that someone out there is hell bent on me being dead and thinks that I need protection.”

“Who’d want to kill you?” Ron asked, although he could think of several people immediately, himself included.

“I’ve made a name for myself in entrepreneurship and there are many that are jealous. They don’t think I deserve what I’ve got; they think I only used the Malfoy name and power and—”

“You claim otherwise?” Ron snorted. He was definitely one of those people that believe that. Though, he wasn’t really jealous. He’d never wanted what Malfoy had, he just didn’t like the way Malfoy went about it.

“If you are going to have trouble keeping things professional, I’d much rather the Ministry send me someone else. I know Mother insisted upon it being Potter himself.”

“Harry has better things to do than protect you.” Ron scoffed and looked around the room again as though he did have better things to do. “Are you going to show me around the property? Or are you going to insist on finding someone else?”

“This way…” Malfoy said and pointed towards a hallway on the right. They walked around the ground floor of the Manor then proceeded towards the first floor. “The wards are quite secure in the Manor themselves. Even the letters that I receive now are magically examined by the elves before they are handed to me. I haven’t had another accident since that first time.”

“What was in the letter that rendered you unconscious?” Ron asked. 

“I opened the letter, the writing was laced with poison. I made the mistake of running my fingers over the parchment. There was nothing written initially, then when I dragged my finger across it, the writing became visible and the words were a death threat. I don’t remember much after that. I woke up at St Mungo’s and Mother said she’d arrived at the house, found my on the floor and immediately Apparated me to St Mungo’s. The Healers were successfully able to extract the poison from my system and the Aurors believe that whoever it was—was only trying to send me a message and not actually kill me.”

“Not yet anyway,” Ron said and Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “It’s usually what happens. Most killers, especially those with a vengeance want to send a message or two first. If they killed you right away—I mean where’s the fun in that, right? So they want to see you suffer—tease you—then kill you. Because their fun dies, when you do.”

“Hmm.” Malfoy made an acknowledging, grunting sound. “Interesting that you’re the first person to see it that way.”

“Well, that’s the difference between getting an Auror to help you, rather than just hired muscle,” Ron answered.

“They did have nice muscles,” Malfoy answered in an appreciative tone. Ron’s interested peaked for a moment. He had no idea that Malfoy was bent.

“So is that why the left? A case of sexual harassment, then?” Ron asked, nearly smirking.

“No!” Malfoy said defensively. “Well one of them…” he paused for a moment. “We shagged, all right? Then he thought things were going to change between us and I didn’t want them to. I mean he was _hot_ , not going to lie about that but—he was just _so_ daft.”

“If _you’re_ saying so, then I can only imagine,” Ron said. They had arrived back into the sitting room on the ground floor and the house-elf had brought them tea with sweets and buttered toasts.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Malfoy snapped. Ron shrugged, and his reaction only fuelled Malfoy’s anger.

“I didn’t mean anything. So he left because you didn’t want to be his boyfriend?” Ron asked and took a bite of the toast. “Was this before or after the St Mungo’s incident?”

“Why should it matter?” Malfoy asked.

“Because—if you broke the man’s heart…” Ron rolled his eyes. “He could have been cross enough to want to kill you.” His tone was as patronising as he could make it. He was going to make this difficult for Malfoy as much as possible.

“Oh. It was before.” Malfoy took a sip of his tea and leaned back. “I didn’t have any minders then. I was sure I was able to protect myself. I had received several threats and many attempts were made at me when I was in the public eye, but that was the first time it happened at home and that’s when Mother insisted that I best be protected always.” He paused again and Ron didn’t say anything. He figured he’d just let Malfoy tell him as much as he wanted to.

“That’s when Stuart started living here. I liked him. I mean the man was bloody gorgeous. I didn’t even know he was bent, because when he used to come and meet me in the morning he was so proper—so professional—and he’d be with me all day. Drop me off at home at night and be on his way. We never talked about anything personal then. After he started living here—that was a different story. I’d see him constantly in casual clothes, he’d run around the property for exercise and he’d wear this tight…” Malfoy sighed. “Anyway one thing led to another and soon he was sleeping in my bed—every night.” 

Ron nodded as Malfoy took a break from his story to sip on his tea.

“It was becoming too much,” Malfoy added. “I was losing grip on reality, I was behind at work, and he wasn’t really _protecting_ me rather fending off people. He was becoming a jealous boyfriend rather than a shield. So I had to let him go. I told him that I was going to get another guard—someone else to be protection—and that way we could concentrate on the relationship. It was a lie of course, I just wanted him gone. He didn’t like that very much.”

“Then what happened?” Ron asked, he was more interested in the scandal, and he reckoned Malfoy knew it too.

“He punched me, in the gut, landing me in St Mungo’s again for a whole different reason,” Malfoy answered. He placed his teacup back on the saucer. “That’s when I turned to Angelfire Securities and they sent me a woman.”

“Let me guess, you were against that?” Ron jeered.

“No, of course not!” Malfoy answered as though he was severely offended. “What do you take me for, Weasley?”

“So what happened with her?” Ron asked, ignoring Malfoy’s retort.

“She took a holiday with her fiancé for a week, and I had someone else fill in for her—he was alright, but I preferred Martha. She was great.” Malfoy sighed again. “But a month after she’d returned, she announced she was pregnant. She had been great, we were good friends and she was always professional. Kept an eye out for all kinds of trouble—but—she _had_ to leave. She couldn’t risk it…”

“That’s when your mother turned to the Ministry?”

“Indeed,” Malfoy answered. “I told her, I didn’t need anyone living with me anymore. There were several guards set for any sort of trouble, but she insisted and my mother can be rather overprotective.”

“Don’t I know what that’s like,” Ron mumbled. Malfoy looked at him in question. “I was injured on the job over six months ago—she cried for days when she realised that I was going back to work—”

Malfoy laughed. “Yeah, that’s really how she got me to agree to let in someone new for the job.”

“So what are you looking for—for your protection?” Ron asked. “I still don’t understand, why you need a minder and why someone is trying to kill you.” Ron hadn’t seen Malfoy in nearly ten years and he had no reason to check up on him. 

Harry had spoken on behalf of Draco and Narcissa Malfoy in the Trials and that was that. They’d eventually moved on with their lives. Harry had married Ginny and well—Hermione had moved on as well. 

“After the Trials...after I received a second chance, I wanted to do something different. I had made a vow of turning my life around and I didn’t know what to do, where to turn to. The only job I could get was at Madam Malkin’s. She was looking for a Sewing Machine Operator. She was one of the few people in the wizarding world who didn’t discriminate against me. So I worked for her.”

“What did you do?” Ron looked down at his tea and his mug was empty, he wished he could have more. A house-elf appeared with a steaming cup. Ron was startled but he didn’t have time to react, Malfoy continued with his story.

“Basic sewing stuff really, I finished stitch ends on her designs, folded fabric, put up displays, helped with the customers—helped customise designs. I was really good at it and she was—surprisingly—a really good teacher. She told me all about how she learned it and how she really got started in it. So based on her references, a year later, I was travelling and learning all about fabric making, costume design—in France, Italy, China, Thailand. I travelled everywhere and learned a lot. Enough to come back and start my own design company with her.” Malfoy was excited about his work, Ron could see. His tone exuded enthusiasm and his face lit up, like Ron had never seen before.

Malfoy had paused, looking sheepish. Ron reckoned he was probably not used to opening up to anyone and Ron always had a knack for getting people to trust him—even if that person was Malfoy. 

“Oh is that why it’s called Malkin’s and Malfoy’s?” Ron asked, and Malfoy looked surprised. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you. Can’t afford your robes really, but doesn’t mean I haven’t heard of you.”

“So you see my dilemma?” Malfoy asked.

“Erm...not really. Someone wants to kill you because you make fancy, unaffordable robes?”

“They are not unaff—” Malfoy was beginning to get charged up again. He let out a deep breath. “It’s not because we make robes, it’s because we are the best. We get the best fabric and for the _quality_ of the material, we sell the robes for a _reasonable_ price.”

“Like I said, I don’t need fancy robes.”

“Well that much is obvious.”

“So you think the competition is trying to kill you?”

“Madam Malkin’s name in the business is just that—a name. It’s an honour I want to keep but she’s not really the brains behind the project anymore. It’s mostly me. I do all of the work, the travel, the negotiations. I’ve been offered to be bought up by several other big named companies but unless Marilyn…” Malfoy looked at Ron, who seemed confused. “Madam Malkin...agrees to it, I won’t even think of the idea. It’s not really common knowledge that I still consult with her. So if the threats really are coming from a competition, I’d rather they not know of her involvement.”

“It’s all a little crazy, don’t you think?” Ron asked. “Someone wanting to kill you because you just want to sell some robes?”

“Of course it all seems trivial to you,” Malfoy replied. “You lot never really had any respect for me anyway, you strutted around _saving_ the world—you don’t know a thing about business.”

“And what is it that I don’t know?” Ron sneered.

“Some people are cutthroat to succeed in business. It—life—isn’t all just Dark Magic and prevention of it. It’s not all that makes the world go around. Madam Malkin taught me the real way to succeed in life and business: hard work, long hours, an ability to focus, marketing, and the will to carry on when faced with a challenge. The most important of all is giving back to the community. The amounts of school uniforms Malkin’s and Malfoy’s donate to school children can account for thousands of Galleons of _my_ money! We are not just famous because we sell quality robes for the rich and famous, but also because every portion of our sale is donated—either in a form of school uniform or actual monetary value to the St Mungo’s Orphanage.”

Ron sat back on the sofa. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Malfoy’s comment. 

“So if they kill me—they’re not just eliminating a huge competition—they’re undermining all the good that we do.”

“It’s hard to believe that you claim to do so much good, but the former security companies that have worked for you have given nothing but negative reviews for you,” Ron said. He still was having a hard time believing Malfoy was “all good.” He was still Malfoy.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “They’re supposed to be for my protection, but they are like children. After Stuart and Martha nobody really seemed to _fit_. It was nothing but a reject clubs for those that didn’t make it in the Auror programme.” 

“No wonder they walked out on you,” Ron answered shaking his head. “It’s how you treat people, that’s why no one respects you—even after all your apparent success.”

“And evidently the Ministry doesn’t really see my life in danger as a real concern, because they’ve practically sent me their most encumbered employee…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ron roared. 

“It means that you were injured six months ago—then what? You’ve had a desk job and this is your first assignment back? The Ministry clearly doesn’t care and just sent me anyone from the bottom of their barrel.”

Ron felt his ears burning with hate. He was having a hard time controlling himself, and he simply wanted to reach over and punch that smirk off Malfoy’s face. He stood up instantly from the sofa and turned to leave. But then he remembered, this was probably exactly what Malfoy wanted, and Ron couldn't actually afford to give up this assignment either.

Ron picked up his bag he’d travelled with and spoke. “Which one did you say was my room?”

“You’re staying?” Malfoy asked, sounding shocked. His eyes travelled to the bag Ron was holding then back to Ron’s face—he stood up abruptly.

“Well, I don’t turn down a job, no matter how insignificant. And if you’re in as much danger as you say you are—I will protect you. And if you die because I’m so completely inadequate—well then you’ll be correct. That’ll really show the Ministry. See? A win-win.”

Malfoy huffed, he opened his mouth to argue and Ron waited with an eyebrow raised. Nothing. He said nothing. He nodded curtly and turned around. “Follow me.”

Malfoy walked up the steps again to the first floor and opened the door to a room. “This will be your quarters. My room is directly across. Mother’s directives.” Ron nodded and entered the room. “You’ll find everything is already set for you. Dinner will be at seven o’clock and breakfast is always at eight thirty on the dot. If you need anything, the house-elf for your service is Larima.”

Malfoy turned around and left the room. Before Ron could close the door Malfoy had returned. “Oh, I have to go to a charity luncheon tomorrow, we’ll be leaving at eleven thirty. Then after dinner, I am to have drinks with the President of Manière Wizardwear. They are France’s number one clothing line for wedding robes.”

“I’m sure they are,” Ron said, he thought of slamming the door on Malfoy’s face but resisted. “I’ll check the wards before I settle in and meet you for dinner in a few hours. If there’s anything else—?” Malfoy shook his head. “Excellent, see you shortly then.” Ron finally closed the door and crashed on the bed. His first thought was of how he wasn’t sure he’d survive at the Manor and with Malfoy, his second thought was of how comfortable the mattress was. He settled in on the bed and was surprised at how calm he felt. 

As he closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment there was a knock on the door. Ron groaned. “Yes?” he said with as much disdain as he could muster. The door opened slowly and instead of Malfoy—who Ron had predicted—was Mrs Malfoy. 

“Can I come in, Auror Weasley?” Narcissa Malfoy asked. Her tone was stern yet polite. Ron realised that he probably didn’t sound very nice to her.

“Yes, please.” He straightened himself up and stood up off the bed. “I’m sorry…” Ron flustered. “How are you today, Mrs Malfoy?”

“I understand that this is probably a difficult task for you, something that you might even consider beneath you—”

Ron didn’t know what to say.

“However, I must beg of you to do all that you can to protect Draco. He’s very important to me, and if I could be everywhere he is—I would be. But he simply won’t allow that.”

Ron smiled, and again, he was reminded of his mother. She’d wanted to watch Ron’s every move after he’d been injured in the field. He nodded acknowledging what Narcissa Malfoy had said. “I understand, Mrs Malfoy. Despite my personal reservations, I assure you that I’m here until you and Malfoy—Draco—will have me. I promise that I will do everything in my power to make sure he’s alright.”

Mrs Malfoy smiled. “He’s actually really very kind, you know,” she said. “He puts on the facade that he has it all together and most of the time he does—but he needs to “act” more resilient than he is.

 _Resilient_ , that wouldn’t be the word Ron would use.

*-*-*

The first day on “the job,” Ron woke up and stumbled into the shower; by the time he arrived downstairs for breakfast, he’d found out that Malfoy was not home.

“Master has had an early start,” the house-elf answered. “We thought to wake you, but Master said not to bother.”

“Early start? It’s half past eight!” Ron stood up from his chair at the dining table and pushed away the plate of food. His stomach grumbled, but he didn’t have time to eat.

“Master takes breakfast at half past seven, and leaves the Manor at eight o’clock precisely!”

“The event isn’t even until ten, that’s what Malfoy told me anyway!” Ron wasn’t sure why he was arguing with the house-elf. He really was just wasting his time. Also, Malfoy lied about the time he eats breakfast. 

“Master likes to be prepared. _By failing to always being ready, you are preparing yourself to fail_!” The house-elf looked incredibly proud of himself.

“Right,” Ron said and ran back to his room. He grabbed the parchment where he’d scribbled the address of the event he knew Malfoy was scheduled to be and quickly Disapparated. A moment later, he was in wizarding Stratford, standing in front of The Malfoy Centre for Fashion and the Arts. Ron groaned. Not only was he going to deal with Malfoy, he was going to have to deal with several others like him: wealthy wizards who think the biggest concern in the world is a fashion faux-pas.

Ron entered the building and was directed to the “creator’s room” for the event. He found Malfoy in the middle of a crowd. There were people everywhere, and Ron didn’t know most of them. If anyone wanted to hurt Malfoy easily, this would have been the place to do it.

“Malfoy!” Ron yelled out and everyone in the room turned to look at him. 

Malfoy was surrounded with fabric. Not just on the tables around him but his physical body. He must have been carrying at least three robes on him along with a scarf around his neck. “What do you want?” Malfoy spat out and turned to look at a young woman who was listening intently; she glanced at Ron a few times as she listened to whatever Malfoy was saying.

“Why didn’t you tell me you leave your house at eight?” Ron asked as he placed his hand on Malfoy’s shoulder and turned him around. “I would have woken up earlier.”

“It is not my job to wake you up!” Malfoy answered, pushed Ron’s hand off his shoulder and turned around to the woman again.

“Well _my_ job is to make sure you’re not dead!”

Malfoy turned to face Ron when the woman walked away, he sighed loudly. “I don’t have time to worry about that.” He walked away from Ron and handed the fabric he was carrying to another person. 

“Where are you going?” Ron yelled as he chased after Malfoy. This was going to be a very long day.

An hour later, Malfoy was sitting in a conference room with several other people and Ron stood outside keeping a watch. His stomach grumbled. Ron hated everything about that morning, and now he was starving. He saw the woman from earlier that day walk towards him, smiling.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” Ron replied, confused.

“Here’s a fruit plate and some coffee,” the woman said as she handed the two items to Ron. “I’m Sylvia, by the way. I’m Mr Malfoy’s assistant.”

“Oh, he hasn’t mentioned you,” Ron said and took a sip of the coffee giving Sylvia a thankful look.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She nodded at Ron acknowledging his thanks and summoned a napkin for him. “He still calls me Susan.” They talked for a few more minutes, and then she had to leave claiming that if Malfoy saw her that meant she “wasn’t doing her job.” Apparently her job was to be invisible. 

Ron felt much better after Sylvia left. He was happy with the coffee refill and had called her “an angel.” She was a sweet girl and reminded Ron a bit of Luna, although, Ron thought, she didn’t seem so looney. 

After the meeting was over, Ron followed Malfoy to another hallway and then to another floor of the building. The show was supposed to start and they were to take their seats. Ron thought that Malfoy looked a bit relaxed, but didn’t bother talking to him about it. He probably would have gotten a snarky response anyway. 

Ron didn’t see much of the show. He mostly looked around to see who else _wasn’t_ watching the show and was possibly watching Malfoy. He didn’t think there was anything suspicious, and Malfoy kept on telling him to “get out of the way.”

“I’m trying to look for suspicious activity. Why don’t you just shut up and let me do my job?” Ron snapped, finally. 

“You are blocking my view. I can’t see how the robes look if you keep getting in my way!” Malfoy retorted and suddenly the crowd stood up and applauded. The show was over. “Happy? I missed the grand finale!”

“You’ll read about it in the _Prophet_ ,” Ron answered and left to stand by the exit door to observe. 

As he waited at the door, Sylvia returned to speak to him. “He’s just stressed,” she said with an apologetic smile. “You should give him a break.”

“Give him—?” Ron sighed and stopped himself from speaking any further. “What do you have in your hand?” he asked, instead. “More edible gifts?”

“Not exactly,” she said with a smile. “This is Mr Malfoy’s schedule for the week. Just so you can have it and you wouldn’t have to go looking around for him and can have a proper breakfast in the morning. Whatever time it states, Mr Malfoy usually arrives an hour before that.”

“Got it, thanks.” Ron smiled at her again and opens the parchment up. 

“And it’s enchanted and will keep scrolling down for the entire week. Next week, I’ll hand you a new one.”

“Yeah if _I_ haven’t killed him by then,” Ron said and Sylvia began laughing. “Wait, this says that he’s supposed to be having a business lunch in Diagon Alley at the Cauldron…”

“...and you’re running late,” Sylvia said. “Welcome to the wonderful world of working for Draco Malfoy.”

Ron groaned and sprinted towards the building exit. If he knew Malfoy, which he reckoned he did, Malfoy had already Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron without telling him. Ron found the Apparition point outside the Malfoy Centre for Fashion and the Arts and quickly Disapparated to Diagon Alley.

When he reached the Leaky Cauldron, Ron waited by a table where he saw two stuffy old men sitting with three Butterbeers. “Excuse me, are you here to meet with Draco Malfoy?” Ron asked politely, and the two men nodded. “Excellent, he should be here shortly.” He turned to stand by the table and faced the door. 

Malfoy hadn’t arrived yet, so Ron opened the parchment again and noted that each appointment either had an “A” or an “F” next to it. He thought it either meant Apparition or Floo. The appointment at the Leaky Cauldron had an “F” next to it, so Ron turned to face the Floo. Moments later, Malfoy was there. He stepped out of the Floo, dusted himself and looked towards the table, shocked to see Ron.

Malfoy quickly smoothed his expression and took a seat at the table. Ron smirked to himself. He reckoned Malfoy was probably impressed, but it would kill the git to ever acknowledge it. He took a seat few tables over from Malfoy’s and watched the three men interact as he ate chips and sipped on his Firewhisky. 

After the stunt Malfoy tried to pull that morning, Ron was surprised that Malfoy was talking to him by the end of the evening. 

“I’ve got no plans this evening, so I told Mother I’d have dinner with her at the Manor,” Malfoy said and Ron nodded. “You can have the evening off if you wish.”

“I can’t exactly leave you out here,” Ron answered and placed his hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. “Wherever we are off to next.” Malfoy looked at Ron surprised, but didn’t answer. Seconds later, they were at Malfoy Manor.

*-*-*

Dinner was quiet and Ron excused himself early. By the look on Narcissa’s face, Ron knew that she didn’t like that very much but Ron had had enough of Malfoy that day and was not in the mood to sit at a table with him and be cordial for Mrs Malfoy’s sake.

After leaving his room for the second time that evening, this time to shower, Ron noticed that something was off, yet he couldn’t place what it was. When he left the bathroom he noticed that he was no longer in the same hallway he’d entered from. 

Ron didn’t understand. Was this a trick? He walked down the hall and took a right. He was in an entirely different part of the house. He recognised the paintings. He’d been there yesterday when he received the tour of the Manor. How was this possible?

Ron heard someone clearing their throat and entered a room where the light came from. He was now in Malfoy’s study and saw Malfoy leaning over the desk, as though he were deep in thought. 

“What games are you playing?” Ron asked, and Malfoy jerked up his head to look at Ron.

“I see Mother has activated the Charms,” Malfoy answered coyly.

“What Charms?” Ron was annoyed, even more now because Malfoy was staring up and down at him while he stood in the chilly room only in a towel.

“It’s a test. To see if you know where you are and how to get back to where you’re supposed to be. A defence mechanism of sorts...evidently you’ve failed it.”

Ron was now definitely annoyed. “I was not aware that I would be tested. Apologies for not memorising the blueprints of the house where most of my friends were held captive and tortured.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened and it was as though he’d been stunned speechless. “I’ll show you the way,” he said and walked out of his study. Ron followed. On the way, Ron made mental notes of the surroundings, in case he was tricked again and next time he would know the way back.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled when they reached the door to Ron’s room, but Malfoy had already left. Ron supposed he shouldn’t have said what he did to Malfoy in the study, but Malfoy had a habit of bringing out the worst in everyone.

*-*-*

The next morning, Ron waited by the breakfast table for Malfoy to arrive. He had begun eating in case Malfoy would be in a mood and would want to leave straightaway. Ron didn’t want to take the chance, he’d been miserable the day before without a breakfast and he was going to avoid that at all costs.

They left the Manor at eight o’clock exactly and didn’t return that evening until seven. The day had been relatively boring with only watching Malfoy walk in and out of meetings, and Ron had familiarised himself with some of the staff. 

Sylvia was there as well and in between her projects, she’d pop in and give Ron a coffee or a muffin to help him through. She was a godsend. 

The routine continued for several days. Ron had mastered the hallways of the Manor at night, and in the morning he was almost always up and ready to go before Malfoy. He had figured out the lay of the land at Malfoy’s work easily as well and looked forwards to his chats with Sylvia during the day. 

Though by the fourth day, Ron noticed that the kitchen staff had changed. The people who usually brought in the lunch for the meetings looked different. The lunch was usually catered instead of being made in-house and for five days in a row the staff had been the same. Ron wondered if it was on purpose that the staff had changed. 

Ron found Sylvia and went to ask her regarding the changes.

“Oh, I’m not aware of any changes,” she answered. “I hadn’t really paid much attention to who brought it over, but I did notice that they were messing up a lot more today.”

Ron nodded and looked around. Everything _else_ seemed to be in order. 

“I hope if they did make a mess of things Mr Malfoy would speak to me and not to them directly. The last time he addressed the catering staff, they up and quit right before a benefit event.”

Ron laughed. “I’m not surprised,” he said. “He’s really lucky to have you, you know.”

“ _Flirt_...at your own time.” Ron and Sylvia turned to look at where the voice came from.

“What—?”

“We are not flirting, Mr Malfoy, we were just discussing—”

“I don’t care,” Malfoy sneered. “Why has the lunch not been set up yet?”

“We were _just_ discussing that. It seems that the company—”

“Again. Don’t care. And this is not something you discuss with my bodyguard.”

“Ease up, Malfoy. We were discussing things regarding your safety,” Ron said, interrupting whatever else Malfoy was going to spit out at his assistant. “And look,” Ron added pointing at the conference room, “...they’re setting up the room now. Why don’t you just go on and—”

“Susan, I need to discuss tomorrow night’s event with you…” Malfoy said, interrupting Ron this time, and began to walk away. Sylvia scurried after him and Ron followed.

“Her name’s Sylvia by the way,” Ron said.

“And we really weren’t flirting. I’m engaged.” Sylvia continued to chase after Malfoy into the room as Ron stood outside shaking his head. 

An hour later, Malfoy came out of the lunch meeting and Sylvia’s face was burning red. “Are you okay?” Ron whispered to her as they walked behind Malfoy. She nodded and Ron didn’t think it was very convincing. “What did he say to you?” She shook her head and Malfoy turned to look at them.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Malfoy looked at Sylvia and she shook her head again.

“No, I have the afternoon off. You’d approved it a week ago,” she answered, with a touch of snark. Ron realised that he’d always seen Malfoy talking to her but had never actually seen or heard her response. She had a bit of fight in her. 

Ron’s face brightened up, and he turned to look at Malfoy who was scowling at them. “Whatever, take your boyfriend with you, then,” Malfoy retorted. 

Sylvia sighed. “Mr Malfoy, I’ve already just told you, I’m engaged.”

“Doesn’t mean a workplace romance isn’t blossoming.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m gay, you self-obsessed, oblivious-to-everything, prat.”

Sylvia immediately started laughing, and Ron joined in, unable to help himself. Draco scowled at them again and walked away. Ron thought that was the best thing that had happened to him that whole week. Ultimately, he had to stop because Sylvia did need to leave to go wedding dress shopping, and Ron needed to return to his duties of keeping Malfoy safe.

The next day, things took an interesting turn.

Ron and Malfoy arrived at the Centre and by lunch time, Ron noticed that the lunch catering staff was the same as the day before but they weren’t carrying the same kind of plates as before. The giant trays that the staff carried in and out were usually silver-plated but that day they were bronze. 

Ron wondered if he was reading too much into it. He continued to watch them as Malfoy was reading a parchment and spoke to the man on his left. Malfoy, as always, did not look up when they placed the food in front of him, neither did he thank them. The rest of the group was exactly the same.

Ron saw the plate of salad that was placed before Malfoy, it was different than everyone else’s—along with the goblet of wine. Ron’s eyes wandered towards the man that was placing the food and drinks in front of everyone. He looked nervous and kept on looking towards the exit, and then at the man that was standing across from him serving the other side of the table.

Now, Ron knew, something _was_ wrong!

He quickly pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy’s goblet. It flew out of Malfoy’s hand right before he was about to take a sip. Next, Ron stunned the first man he’d seen, the one who looked extremely nervous and turned to stun another but the rest of the individuals had already Disapparated. 

“Don’t touch anything!” Ron roared and ran towards Malfoy. “Are you okay?” Malfoy nodded, then Ron used his wand to fill the goblet with the glass of spilled wine. “We’ll need to check if it’s poisoned.”

Ron turned to look at the doorway and saw Sylvia. “Floo call the Ministry, right away!” She nodded and ran out. 

“What happened?” Malfoy asked.

“I’m pretty sure they poisoned your wine, and probably your food,” Ron answered calmly. He pointed his wand at a stack of parchments at the side table and they flew towards everyone that was still seated at the table. “Alright, I need everyone to take a deep breath and write down anything and everything you noticed odd about the last few days, this morning, anything at all. The Aurors will be arriving shortly.”

“What about him?” An elderly gentleman pointed at the stunned man on the floor. 

“Well, he’ll be taken in for questioning.” Ron kept his composure and turned to look at Malfoy again, who looked frazzled and a bit red around his cheeks. “You okay, Malfoy?” Malfoy nodded and turned his gaze towards the parchment and began writing.

The Aurors arrived fifteen minutes later.

“What took you so long?” Ron asked as Harry walked in through the door.

“We were working on another case, and left as soon as we could. I figured you’d have everything in control.” Harry smiled and Ron eased up, and the two friends hugged. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see some action,” Ron answered.

Harry turned towards Malfoy and shook his hand. He began questioning Malfoy, and Ron walked away to speak with Sylvia.

“Quite a day, huh?” Sylvia said as Ron placed his arm around her to comfort her. She looked a bit weary. 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Ron joked.

“How did you know the wine was poisoned?” Sylvia asked.

“His goblet was different than everyone else’s as though he was being targeted. It was easy to spot, really.” He smiled at her and turned to look at Malfoy who was still speaking with Harry, but was constantly looking at Ron and Sylvia.

“Look at the way he’s scowling, still thinks we’re a thing,” Ron said.

“No, he’s making sure you’re not going anywhere,” Sylvia replied, her eyes widened and she blushed. 

“I don’t understand.” Ron rotated to face her, he was confused by what she’d said.

“He likes you, I can tell. He doesn’t like a lot of people, so when he likes someone…”

“That’s bloody insane,” Ron said, interrupting her. “Yesterday he was all but ready to sack…”

“Me.” She placed her hand on Ron’s arm. “He was ready to sack me because he thought we were flirting. Remember the last time there was an office romance, between him and the other bodyguard. He didn’t want us to end sour so you wouldn’t go away. Right now…” Sylvia sighed. “Don’t even ask me why I know this, please.” Ron nodded at her still thoroughly confused. “He’s turned on. He keeps looking at you because he—wants you.”

Ron groaned. “What are you talking about?”

“Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” She grinned at him and pulled on Ron’s arm, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “Look at his face,” she whispered but didn’t turn. A moment later, she walked away.

Ron casually gazed towards Malfoy and saw him glaring. 

“Okay, so maybe she knows what she’s talking about,” Ron whispered to himself. 

Ron walked up to Harry and Malfoy, and Harry grinned as he placed his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “Good to see you’re taking the job seriously,” he joked. “Malfoy, you can go home now, we’ll interview the rest of the witnesses here. Sorry to say that you’re going to have to close up shop today.”

“Thank you,” Malfoy said nodding and turned to Ron. “Do you need to stay here?”

Ron shook his head. “No, they can handle it. My job is to keep you from dying.” Ron looked at Harry and smiled and they were about to leave when an old man stopped Ron.

“Auror Weasley, we’re quite impressed with your show here,” the man said, and Ron quietly grumbled. The last thing he wanted was to impress an old rich pureblood wizard. “How did you know that these men were going to harm Draco?”

“They’re the help,” Ron answered firmly and everyone quieted down and turned to look at him. “No one notices the help.” Ron decided to be frank. “The high and mighty pureblood wizards don’t bother to notice the people that work “beneath” them. You think so highly of yourselves, because you donate a few Galleons, a few robes to charities. You never look up to thank the man serving your food, have you ever bothered to learn their names? Any names? Your assistant…” Ron turned to look at Malfoy, “ _Sylvia_ , not Susan, has been engaged for three months, the bloke comes to visit her _every day_. He brings her a rose, did you know that?”

Malfoy shook his head.

“Yet she knows what the redness of your cheeks mean,” Ron said and snorted. “I’m surprised all of them are not trying to kill you lot.”

Ron walked out of the room, and towards the Floo. He stopped mid-way and turned around to walk back to Malfoy. “I can’t go anywhere without you,” he said and Malfoy straightened his face leaving the room. They walked to the Floo network quietly and headed to Malfoy Manor.

Malfoy had been quiet after the incident. Too quiet.

“What’s the matter?” Ron finally asked when they arrived at the Manor and Malfoy had begun to walk away. 

Malfoy turned and looked at Ron with an expression Ron couldn’t quite place. “I know her name is Sylvia,” he whispered. “I call her Susan because then I know she’ll either leave or work harder. I don’t have time for people who won’t give it all. I’d feared that once she had gotten engaged that her work, her dedication towards the job would reduce, and I was wrong. She’s one of the hardest working employees at the Malfoy Centre for Fashion and the Arts. That’s why I offered her a raise yesterday, which I also had told her to keep it to herself until it was finalised.”

“Oh,” Ron said; it was all he could say. “Why do you act like such a git all the time, then?” he asked. 

“Appearances. I do try to keep my tabs on everything and whatever I don’t, I have assistants for that. I hadn’t noticed that the catering staff had changed, I’m glad you were there for that…”

“I’m not your assistant!”

“I know, and that’s why I’m alive,” Malfoy answered and turned to take his leave. “Thanks, by the way, not sure if I already said that.”

“If it’s alright with you…” Ron called out after Malfoy. “I’d like to take the night off. I’ll only be gone for a few hours, but I’ll miss dinner.”

“Very well,” Malfoy answered and left. 

Ron didn’t want to stay at the Manor for dinner. He wasn’t sure what sort of coddling Mrs Malfoy would have in store for him for saving her precious son, and he decided that if he were going to be coddled by a mother, it might as well be his own. It had been over a week since he’d seen or talked to any of his family, and seeing Harry again made Ron realised how much he missed them.

*-*-*

When Ron returned to the Manor a few hours later, Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for him in the sitting room.

“I was disappointed that you chose not to dine with us tonight, Auror Weasley,” she said.

“Sorry, Mrs Malfoy. I just needed to visit my family.”

“I understand, Draco was upset as well,” she added.

“Draco?” Ron was startled at the sound of his voice. “I mean, why was _he_ upset? I mean...he knew I wouldn’t be there.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we liked the idea. I wanted to thank you for saving his life today.”

“It’s my job and you can thank me now.” Ron nodded curtly. “You’re welcome.”

“You still don’t like him?” she asked, quite plainly.

“Erm...Mrs Malfoy, I can easily say, I like nor hate your son. Have a good night.” Ron walked away from the Floo and the sitting room and dashed towards his room. He was glad that the hallways hadn’t begun changing that night, because he really wasn’t in the mood for dealing with a puzzle.

He had had enough confusing grief for the day—what Sylvia had said, then his family bothering him to starting seeing someone, and then Mrs Malfoy acting very cryptic. He reached his room and began to undress immediately. He wrapped a towel around him and headed for the shower. 

“Not this again,” Ron groaned when he turned right on a hallway and knew that he was on the other side of the Manor again. He angrily turned another corner and bumped right into Malfoy.

“Oh, sorry!” Malfoy’s parchments went flying across the hall as he tried to stable himself. Ron tried to grab onto the flying parchments and lost the grip on his towel. 

“Blimey!” Ron roared as he caught the falling towel and tried to wrap around himself again. He caught Malfoy staring then abruptly looking away. “I am getting real tired of these hallways changing course all the time!”

“Sorry, I was out for a walk and since it’s a bit chilly out, I thought walking around—that it would help—it clears my mind. I hadn’t realised you’d returned.”

“My mother drove me out,” Ron said, not sure why he chose to share that with Malfoy.

“Oh, something the matter?” Malfoy asked, looking interested and Ron snorted. “Sorry, not my business, anyway.”

“She’s on my case about finding...someone,” Ron said, and Malfoy looked confused. “To date,” he added, trying to clarify. 

Malfoy nodded in recognition and acknowledgement. “Right, mothers.” He laughed before speaking again. “First it’s find a nice suitable girl, then tell ‘em you’re gay and then they go on a venture to find you a nice bloke!”

“Yours too?” Ron felt a calm settle in his stomach and he held onto the towel tightly. 

“Of course, I was engaged, unfortunately; for a short while. When that didn’t work, I told her I wanted to continue concentrating on my business and now she thinks, since it’s all settled…”

“You’d think my mum would ease up given she’s got at least two other unmarried children, but she likes to concentrate on me.”

“What happened to you and Granger?” Malfoy asked.

“Well you know, gay.” Ron laughed. “It was alright though, when I came out to my friends, Harry was there to console Hermione and it seems with me out of the picture…”

“Really?” Malfoy said, as though they were both gossiping in a dark corner. “That rat bastard. Stealing his best friend’s girl.”

“Not much of stealing, is it?” Ron said, running his hand through his hair. “Things were confusing during the war and there is just something wonderful about falling for your friend that you’ve been so much through with…”

“Unrequited feelings for Potter, much?” Malfoy asked.

“Yeah, you should talk,” Ron retorted. “Well, I best be going before my nipples fall off…” It was always bloody freezing in Malfoy Manor no matter how many fireplaces the mansion had. Malfoy looked taken aback by Ron’s comment, and Ron had almost forgotten whom he was speaking with and was more candid than he intended to be. “Right, sorry.” He ran off down the hallway hoping to find the right corridor to finally be able to take a shower.

The next day was Saturday, and Ron was glad that he could at least sleep in for a little bit.

*-*-*

When Ron arrived for breakfast the next day, he was pleasantly surprised that all of his favourite breakfast foods were set on the table. He sat down on the chair and a house-elf appeared to fill his place.

“What is all this?” Ron asked the house-elf, since neither Malfoy nor Mrs Malfoy had arrived yet.

“Mistress Malfoy made us Floo call Mrs Weasley to ask Mr Weasley’s favourite foods,” the house-elf answered and continued placing the food on top of the plate.

“That’s enough for now, thank you,” Ron said, stopping the elf from forming a small mountain on his plate. 

“Find everything you like?” Mrs Malfoy asked as she entered the room and sat on Ron’s right.

“It’s bloody brilliant!” Ron said, excitedly. “Erm...I mean, yes, thank you!”

Malfoy arrived next, his cheeks a bit red—Ron noticed—like they had been the day before after the attack at the Malfoy Centre. Ron cleared his throat and returned his concentration on the food. Most of the breakfast was spent Ron stuffing his face, which annoyed Mrs Malfoy, and Malfoy trying not to snicker at his mother’s reactions. 

“Any plans for today?” Ron asked Malfoy after his plate had been cleared. He had checked the parchment that Sylvia had given him and the Saturday was quite free. 

“Not really, I was hoping to go flying,” Malfoy said, looking unconcerned. 

“Really? That’s brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. He was in a good mood after the fantastic breakfast he’d had.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Mrs Malfoy interjected; her tone of disapproval wasn’t hard to miss.

“Mother…” Malfoy complained looking embarrassed.

“What’s the matter?” Ron asked.

“My mother and my former...bodyguard...didn’t approve that I liked to go flying in my spare time. They’re all a bit…”

“Well they were probably bad flyers,” Ron said. “I can go with you, I mean, I’ll be there obviously and I’m sure I can keep up.”

“You think so, Weasley?”

“You bet your little oblivious arse, Malfoy.”

Mrs Malfoy cleared her throat and Ron turned to look at her. Had he just—sort of—maybe flirted with _Malfoy_? He was glad to have received the interruption.

“The only way I’ll allow Draco to go flying is if you both fly on the same broom.”

“Mother!”

“You can’t possibly be serio—”

“Draco, you had promised me that one more attack on you; one more indication of your carelessness and you’d let me dictate…”

Malfoy sighed and sank back in his chair. “...the rest of my life,” he mumbled.

Ron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Malfoy was a grown man and he was not being _allowed_ to go flying. Mrs Malfoy was far worse than his mother. Suddenly, Ron had a great appreciation for his mother’s moderate leniency.

Mrs Malfoy got up off her chair and snapped her fingers. A moment later, a house-elf appeared with a brand new Firebolt in his hand. “This is for you…” she said, “...both.”

Ron stood up immediately to grab on to the broom from the house-elf’s hand. It was the latest version and he’d seen it in the shops in Diagon Alley recently. He had to remember to breathe, or else he was going to pass out from the shock of it all. “Malfoy…” he uttered as he gripped on the broom tightly and turned to look Malfoy.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and slightly groaned. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s get ready before you start making love to the broom right in here.” He turned and walked away. And for the first time, Ron stared at his arse as he watched him leave. 

Usually Malfoy wore a long coat that snug tightly around his slim body, but that morning, Malfoy was simply wearing a tucked in button down silk shirt, and Ron wasn’t sure what stirred him to move his gaze downwards. He grabbed the broom a bit more firmly, hugging it as if he needed to distract himself from the thoughts he might have had whilst watching Malfoy walk away.

An hour later, they were on the garden behind Malfoy Manor. Unable to decide on who should ride in front, Ron suggested a coin toss and lost. Malfoy was gleeful and Ron only glowered at him. Malfoy mounted the broom first and then asked Ron to “hop on.”

“Hold on tightly, Weasley,” he said before taking off the ground and almost knocking Ron off.

“Watch what you’re doing, Malfoy,” Ron snapped. “How long has it been since you flew anyway?”

Malfoy made a sharp turn to the right and Ron was forced onto grabbing Malfoy’s waist tightly. He didn’t want to admit it but the turn was a lot smoother than he’d anticipated. Ron didn’t need to hold onto Malfoy so securely anymore but he chalked it off to not trusting the git. 

Malfoy made another sharp turn and aimed down on the broom, causing Ron to slide into Malfoy and his face settling close to Malfoy’s neck. He was sure that Malfoy could feel Ron’s breath on him. Malfoy shuddered for a moment and pulled up again, resulting in Ron tightening his arms around Malfoy’s waist.

“Don’t be such a…” Ron huffed angrily.

“What do you mean?” Malfoy asked as he turned left, and it looked as though he was getting ready to land. 

“You’re turning sharply so I’d fall,” Ron replied.

“I am not. My mother will have my neck if I harm her precious Saviour,” Malfoy sneered, and they’d reached the ground. Ron immediately hopped off.

“I’m not your Saviour,” Ron said.

“Could have fooled me, my mother doesn’t stop talking about you whenever she’s in my company,” Malfoy answered.

“It’s not my fault she finds you so much less interesting,” Ron answered, triggering Malfoy to hop off the broom and charge towards Ron. “Okay, enough. It’s my turn now.” Ron raised his hands in surrender. “Are you going to stay down here?”

“The hell, I am.”

Ron was oddly glad that Malfoy wanted to ride with him again; perhaps he wanted to scare Malfoy with the same theatrics. 

Moments later, they were back up in the air and Ron was making sharper turns than Malfoy, and Malfoy kept on holding onto Ron tightly. Ron smiled to himself with the thought that he’d finally scared Malfoy enough. He tried to show off by making two sharp turns simultaneously and Malfoy’s right arm accidentally gripped Ron’s inner thigh, his hand brushing past Ron’s cock. 

Ron’s hand jerked up on the broom and they were almost horizontal, nearly toppling over. Malfoy began cursing in Ron’s ear and Ron straightened them up.

“Calm down,” Ron said as he turned the broom around and was preparing for a landing.

“I will not _calm down_ , you nearly had us knocked over!”

“But I didn’t!” Ron jerked on the broom again causing Malfoy to fall back and drop in, earning Ron another scream. Ron chuckled and Malfoy cursed again.

“Weasley, you stop that, right now!” Malfoy demanded and Ron sped up towards the landing station. 

As soon as they reached the ground, Malfoy hopped off, still livid.

“Malfoy, I was only teasing!” Ron said, running after him. “Come on, you’re worse than Hermione!”

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and glared at Ron. “Why did you try to kill her too?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Ron said, trying to sound apologetic. He really was just trying to have good fun. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked placing his hand on Malfoy’s shoulder, who immediately yanked it away.

“You are,” Malfoy said. “You ride like an animal, you’re uncivilized and think of yourself as some godsend…”

“What are you on about?” Ron asked, and Malfoy didn’t say anything; he turned to walk away again. “Malfoy!” Ron pulled on Malfoy’s shoulder, harder this time and he spotted Malfoy’s hand turning into a fist. 

Ron ducked to dodge Malfoy’s fist and then pushed him back, in turn landing them both on the ground, Ron on top of Malfoy. Malfoy tried to push Ron away but Ron pressed himself firmly on top of him and held Malfoy’s hands to the ground. 

Malfoy was struggling under Ron, trying to free himself, and Ron didn’t understand why he was so cross all of a sudden. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Get off me!”

“No. Tell me your fucking problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Malfoy jerked up again and that’s when he realised that Malfoy was hard. 

Ron had had an erection when they were flying, that was why he was so tensed up when Malfoy’s hand had brushed past him and grabbed his thigh. He only then supposed that Malfoy had been hard as well—the entire time. 

“I wasn’t trying to tease you,” Ron said softly, but did not move from his spot. 

“And what are you trying to do now?” Malfoy asked; he’d calmed down and was no longer struggling to get free.

“I don’t know,” Ron answered. He pushed down on Malfoy, grinding his erection against Malfoy’s and leaned in to kiss him. 

“Weas—”

Ron pressed his lips against Malfoy’s and gently brushed Malfoy’s lower lip with his tongue. Ron’s action had shut Malfoy up, but Ron wasn’t sure why he’d just done that. Then Malfoy kissed him back. Daring to take it to the next level, Ron slid his tongue in Malfoy’s mouth and met no resistance. Why was Malfoy allowing Ron to continue?

Malfoy’s hand travelled up to grab on Ron’s hair but instead of pushing him away, as Ron had anticipated, he pulled him in further. Malfoy moaned into Ron’s mouth when he rubbed his erection against Malfoys. They had far too much clothing still on for it to go anywhere.

It was as though Malfoy had read Ron’s mind and his hands trekked down to Ron’s trousers and began to unbutton them. Ron hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to continue, but they were in broad daylight . They were in the Malfoy gardens. What if Mrs Malfoy came strolling by?

Malfoy’s hands stopped and he froze, as though he had also understood Ron’s reluctance. Ron broke the kiss and looked at Malfoy, still pinned down under him. “What if someone walks in on us…” he tried to explain. 

“We should probably stop, anyway,” Malfoy answered.

“Oh,” Ron said, disappointedly. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t know why all of a sudden they were doing this but he liked it. The fact that it was Malfoy was not lost on him. He still liked it. “I didn’t intend on attacking you like that,” he said. 

Malfoy was still under him and their erections hadn’t settled. “Yet, you continue to...be on top of me,” Malfoy answered, in a relatively flirtatious manner. Ron lightly thrust into him and he responded, equally willingly.

“I kind of like being on top of you,” Ron answered and kissed Malfoy again. 

“Maybe we can—”

“Draco!” Mrs Malfoy’s voice was faint, but she was repeating Malfoy’s name and the sound of her voice was becoming stronger. Ron immediately pulled himself away from Malfoy and stood up with his back facing the Manor, fixing his trousers. Malfoy got off the ground immediately and straightened his hair, then grabbed the broom.

“There you are!” she said, as she approached the two of them. “I was sure I was going to find the two of you in a commotion.”

Ron chuckled nervously and thanked Merlin for having the common sense of stopping when he did. Otherwise, she would have found them in a commotion, all right.

“What is it, Mother?” Malfoy asked, and cleared his throat. 

“You’ve got a Floo call from Pansy—”

“Shite! Regarding the launch party!” Malfoy nearly screamed as he ran off to the Manor. 

“Language!” Mrs Malfoy screamed after him.

“Launch party?” Ron asked.

“Yes, they are planning on a launch party for the new shops that are going to open up in Paris. It’s scheduled for Monday night.”

“Monday night?” Ron asked, surprised. He tried to remember if he’d read something about that on the schedule Sylvia had given him. “And it’s here?” Mrs Malfoy nodded. “Why did no one think of telling me this in advance? We’ll probably need extra security.”

“It’s going to be most of Draco’s friends…”

“Yeah and business associates. Probably the competition.” Ron frowned. “We have no idea who is trying to harm Draco...I mean Mal—” _Fuck_. “It could be anyone, it could easily well be Sylvia! We have to be careful with everyone.”

“You really think it could be Sylvia? Draco’s assistant?”

“No, I don’t think that, but I’m saying we don’t know. It could be anyone.”

“What should we do?” Mrs Malfoy asked, concern all over her voice.

“We’ll have to keep a close eye on all the food and drinks served at the party, and all the guests will have to check their wands at the door. I’ll probably call in a favour for one or two Aurors to come and help.”

Mrs Malfoy nodded. “I’ll ask Pansy to help as well.” Ron shook his head. “Why?” She sounded confused.

“We can’t trust anyone,” Ron answered.

“We can trust Pansy.”

Ron didn’t like the idea but he knew arguing with the Malfoys led no one anywhere, so he let it go for the moment. He’d just have to ask one of the Aurors to keep an eye on Parkinson as well.

*-*-*

Malfoy spent most of the Saturday on the Floo Network connecting with business associates and party planners regarding the launch party. Ron stayed mostly in his room. If he’d left the room, he’d see Malfoy either in the study or by the fireplace. They’d share awkward glances and Ron reckoned it was just easier to stay out of the way.

Dinner was even more awkward. 

Narcissa had decided to go out to meet a friend leaving Ron and Malfoy alone. Ron hadn’t found that out until he’d arrived at the dinner table. They sat quietly for a while, avoiding eye contact, and slowly chewed their food.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Ron said finally, after the dessert had been served.

“There’s no need,” Malfoy answered.

“Right,” Ron said. He supposed Malfoy didn’t want to talk about what had happened earlier and probably didn’t want a repeat performance of it. Even if it really had been a very hot moment. Ron knew it had been a while since he’d been with someone, Viktor Krum was the last, and that was six months before the accident. “Blimey!” Ron whispered when he realised that it had been over a year since he’d had sex. 

“What?” Malfoy asked, looking up curiously at Ron.

“Nothing, sorry,” Ron answered and returned his gaze on the chocolate mousse in front of him. It was probably a good idea that they not talk about it, nor repeat the actions, Ron didn’t want to be the second bodyguard in Malfoy’s bed. That’s why he was hired right? Malfoy wanted someone that he wouldn’t shag. Even if bending Malfoy over on the sofa, or the table, or any possible surface was all Ron had thought about since earlier that day.

“Well, thank you for the company, Weasley,” Malfoy said, interrupting Ron’s thoughts as he stood up from the table. Ron immediately stood up as well, as though it was his directive. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave Ron a once over. “Right,” he said, and turned to walk away.

Ron followed him.

“What are you doing?” Malfoy asked, but didn’t stop walking.

“Walking you to your room, or the study…” Ron didn’t know what he was doing. 

“Why?”

Ron shrugged. _Hell, if I know_. 

They continued walking in silence until they reached Malfoy’s room. Malfoy turned to face him and Ron gently brushed the back of his hand against Malfoy’s left hand. Malfoy shivered and Ron looked up to look into his eyes. He moved one step closer to Malfoy who immediately stepped back, leaning against the wall. Ron moved his hand up to Malfoy’s face and gently brushed his cheek. Malfoy didn’t flinch. Ron took that as a challenge. He ran his thumb across Malfoy’s lower lip and he heard Malfoy gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing a bit.

Ron placed his hand on Malfoy’s right him and leaned in. His eyes didn’t move from watching Malfoy biting his lower lip, then licking it. Ron was about to kiss him again when the Floo swooshed. 

“Draco!” It was Mrs Malfoy, again. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered and stepped back, allowing Malfoy to go to his mother who was evidently fetching for him. Malfoy ran off without turning back to look at Ron, who in turn returned to his room, locking the door behind him. 

Ron collapsed on his bed, annoyed, and hard. He grabbed lube from the drawer on his bedside table, and unbuttoned his trousers. He reckoned wanking. The privacy of the room was better than doing it in the shower, anyway. Besides, he didn’t have time to head to the shower right now. If he ran into Malfoy again in his towel—Ron wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just jump him and take him against the wall. 

Ron really needed to no longer give into his desire of Malfoy. Malfoy was his employer and he was not to fraternise him, not to mention, he was still a spoiled-rich-git. It didn’t mean that Ron couldn’t appreciate Malfoy’s arse, or the way his cock brushed against Ron’s. 

“Fuck…” Ron whispered as he grabbed his erection and slowly began stroking. He panted softly and teased himself, the way he was sure Malfoy would have done to him. Merlin, what he wouldn’t do to have Malfoy at that moment. His hand, his mouth, his arse. Ron wondered how versatile Malfoy was. Would he just bend over and let Ron fuck him, or would he want to be on top?

Malfoy, the lazy, spoiled-rich-git that he was, probably would be on the bed and would want Ron to ride him. Ron sighed and ran his thumb over the head of his cock, imagining it to be Malfoy’s tongue. His strokes sped up and he watched himself, as he imagined looking into Malfoy’s eyes as he would be pulling in and out of him. Then, he came trying to stifle his scream as he spilled all over his hand. He continued jerking his cock evenly for a few moments, panting as he tried to catch his breath. He slammed his head against the pillow and his spent cock still half-hard in his hand.

“He’s going to drive me mad,” Ron whispered to himself as he wiped his hand against the trousers he’d half taken off. He was about to grab his wand when there was a knock on the door. Panicking, Ron hurriedly cleaned himself off and hid the lube in the drawer again. He stood up speedily and immediately felt floozy. 

The person on the door knocked again.

“Bloody hell, I’m coming,” Ron groaned and opened the door. It was Mrs Malfoy.

“Hello, Auror Weasley,” she said and Ron nodded a hello. “Your mother was trying to reach you whilst Draco and I were in the sitting room. She wishes for you to visit her tomorrow morning.”

“Alright, thanks,” Ron said and she walked away. He sighed with exhaustion and closed the door. Grabbing his towel, he headed for the shower.

*-*-*

Ron was glad to be with his family for most of the day on Sunday. He got to spend good time with Ginny and was caught up on all her stories about professional Quidditch. He wasn’t surprised that the more she spoke about flying, the more he thought about Malfoy.

“What’s the matter?” Ginny asked, she had apparently been talking and Ron had managed to zone out. “Too much Quidditch talk?”

“No, of course not,” he answered. 

“What are you thinking about, then?” She placed her mug of tea on the table and crossed her arms. He knew he wouldn’t be getting out of this one.

“Uh…” She raised an eyebrow at his hesitation. “Malfoy?” he said; unsure of why he’d made it into a question.

“How is it working for him? Charlie told me that Harry said that you’d expected to be sacked by now.”

“Yeah, I did. But, I saved his life…”

“You sound like you don’t want to leave.” Ron hated that Ginny had always been the most observant person in the family. She picked up on clues when no one else would have even noticed that something was wrong.

“I…” Ron sighed and thought of ways to change the topic.

“Malfoy is gay, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Ron said absentmindedly.

“Wait...you haven’t! Have you?” Ginny leaned in towards Ron as though they were about to share the biggest secret. 

“No!” Ron retorted. “Of course not…”

“He likes you and you don’t like him?” she asked, and Ron shook his head. “You like him and he doesn’t like you?” Ron felt as though he were thirteen years old again; he rolled his eyes. “Then what is it?”

“We’ve kissed...a few times,” he confessed, finally. It felt good to tell someone.

“ _Oh_?” Ginny’s tone was scandalous. “What’s stopping you from going any further?”

“Several things.”

“Like?”

Ron sighed again. He leaned back into the sofa and ran his hands through his hair. “He’s my employer. He’s _Malfoy_. And...his mother keeps interrupting!”

Ginny burst into a laughter that roared throughout the Burrow. 

Ron threw one of the sofa cushions at her and told her to shut up. “Mum did that to you too, every time you’d brought Dean over! I remember how irritated you’d get, because you couldn’t get five minutes alone with him.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I waited to be alone with him after she’d gone off to bed.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is. It’s you who’s making it difficult.”

“He’s Malfoy,” Ron said. It was the best he could do as he tried to explain why he couldn’t pursue it.

“You already said that, yet you still wish to snog him.”

*-*-*

Ron returned to Malfoy Manor late on Sunday evening, and was surprised to see house-elves bustling about, along with several other guests that Ron had never seen before.

“What is all this?” Ron asked Mrs Malfoy, who was telling a house-elf where to hang a banner.

“Preparations for the party tomorrow evening. We’ve got to set it all up tonight, and Draco has to work in the morning. The guess will begin arriving promptly at six o’clock.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me you were going to have outsiders _in_ the Manor tonight? I would have asked the Aurors to come a night early!”

“We’re safe in the Manor,” Mrs Malfoy answered.

“That is not the point. I am supposed to know everything that is happening. How do you expect me to protect Malfoy if you keep forgetting to—”

“I’m fine, and we’re all fine,” Malfoy said, as he walked into the room. Ron looked at him angrily. Everything else aside, his number one priority was to make sure Malfoy was safe. “We’ve taken away their wands and the house-elves are on full alert for suspicious activity.” Ron calmed a bit after that. “We take your opinions under advisement, Weasley. You’re proving your worth, after all.” Malfoy smiled and Ron scowled. If that was supposed to be a compliment, Ron didn’t take it that way. 

“Well, clearly you’ve got it all under control. Have a good night.” Ron marched off from the room and headed towards his. He was half way through the hallway when he heard Malfoy call for him. “What?” he snapped, turning around to face Malfoy.

“What’s the matter with you?” Malfoy asked, looking confused and offended. _Offended_. 

“Nothing is the matter with me. I’m tired of being the only person who takes the threat against your life seriously. I’m hired to protect you, yet you continue to defy whatever request I make for you to be careful and—”

“I told you, we took your advice and—”

“Yeah, you took away their _wands_ ,” Ron sneered. “Because that’s the only way one can do actual damage.”

“Listen, I don’t understand—”

“Yeah, you don’t understand!” Ron glared at Malfoy for a moment and eventually just walked away. He had nearly reached his room, and Malfoy pulled on his shoulder. “What, you’ve followed me to my room now?”

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like such a mad man!”

“A mad man?” Ron scoffed. “I’m tired.” He reached for the doorknob to his room and Malfoy pushed him against the wall. “Bloody hell, Malfoy—”

Malfoy kissed him. Ron struggled to free himself from Malfoy’s grip and pushed him back. He was still infuriated but that changed the moment he saw the expression on Malfoy’s face. He looked dejected. Ron pushed Malfoy against the opposite wall and kissed him again. This time it was Malfoy who struggled to be free, but Ron didn’t give. He continued to press his body against Malfoy’s; his hands travelled up Malfoy’s shirt, untucking them from his trousers and pulling it apart.

“Wait, not here.” Malfoy struggled to speak when Ron’s mouth was on Malfoy’s collarbone sucking it. Ron looked up, moving his lips from his new favourite spot and looked into Malfoy’s eyes. “Come…” Malfoy whispered and all but dragged Ron into Ron’s room. 

They’d barely made it inside the room and Ron slammed the door close and Malfoy pushed him against it. Malfoy’s hands were busy unbuttoning Ron’s trousers and their lips were once again attached. Ron continued sucking on Malfoy’s mouth as he moaned into it thanks to what Malfoy was doing with his hands. 

Malfoy had managed to unbutton both of their trousers, causing them to fall on the ground and he slid their erections together. Ron broke the kiss and slammed his head against the door as he gasped at feeling Malfoy’s heat on his, and Malfoy’s hands pleasuring them both together. 

“I can’t believe I fucking want you this much,” Malfoy mumbled as he jerked his hips forward and bit Ron’s shoulder. Ron let out a low moan and grabbed Malfoy’s waist and steadied the rhythm as they stood there grinding their cocks together, and Ron knew he was close. 

“Wait, stop…” Ron whispered, and Malfoy slowed down his strokes but didn’t stop. It was as though Malfoy had understood what Ron hadn’t even managed to fathom. He dropped on his knees and without hesitation took Ron’s cock in his mouth. “Fuck, Malfoy…”

Malfoy was sucking him fervently, as though it was so natural to him—something he wanted to do—was used to doing. Ron immediately began thrusting into Malfoy’s mouth, grabbing onto his hair to steady himself. Malfoy’s hands reached down to his own cock as Ron continued fucking his mouth. Ron _had_ been really close because a few more thrusts and he was coming, and Malfoy didn’t even flinch. He took it all in as he continued stroking himself, spilling near Ron’s feet. 

Ron pulled out his now limp cock from Malfoy’s mouth, but they remained in the same position for a while. Malfoy rested his head on Ron’s left thigh, and Ron ran his fingers through Malfoy’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“Merlin, that was better than I imagined,” Ron whispered, and helped Malfoy stand up.

“You imagined that?” Malfoy asked, slightly surprised, slightly coy. 

“Yeah, among other things,” Ron answered. He leaned in to kiss Malfoy again, but they were interrupted by a knock. Ron sighed with annoyance. “Your mother, I’m going to presume.”

Malfoy made an apologetic face and they both quickly dressed as Ron cleaned up the mess they’d made. A moment later, after they were mostly looking presentable, Ron opened the door and it was, in fact, Mrs Malfoy on the other side.

“Mother?” Draco said, as he opened the door fully and stepped out of Ron’s room.

“Just making sure that the two of you haven’t killed each other,” Mrs Malfoy answered. 

“Why are you always suggesting that?” Ron asked, finally. It wasn’t the first time she’d hinted on such a notion, and regardless of the animosity Ron felt— _had felt_ —towards Malfoy, it was still aggravating.

“If you must know, Auror Potter had informed me to be careful and not let the two of you alone with each other without proper supervision,” she answered. She turned and walked away, as though she was quite offended at having to explain herself to them. 

Ron looked at Malfoy anxiously. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Honestly, you must,” Malfoy answered. He quickly grabbed Ron by the back of his neck and leaned in to kiss him. “I’ll see you in the morning?” His eyes expressed the question more than his words had and Ron nodded. Malfoy grinned and walked away.

*-*-*

Ron went to breakfast in the morning. Malfoy and Mrs Malfoy were already at the table. They had a quiet breakfast where they mostly talked about routine procedures for the party and what the other two Aurors would be doing.

An hour later, Malfoy and Ron travelled via the Floo Network to the Malfoy Centre of Fashion and the Arts. Every chance he’d get, Malfoy would unassumingly brush his hand against Ron’s, and act as though he hadn’t done anything. 

Malfoy’s actions were beginning to drive Ron mad. By the time they’d returned to the Manor, Ron had had just about enough of Malfoy’s antics. Ron found a quiet moment in between party preparations and pushed Malfoy against the wall. His jerked his hips, pushing his cock on Malfoy’s clothed arse and whispered, “If you don’t stop your teasing, Malfoy, I’m going to take you in front of everyone.”

Malfoy pushed back, grinding on Ron’s erection. “I’d like to see you try, Weasley.”

Ron let him go as soon as the bell had chimed and the first of the guests had arrived. It was Sylvia and her fiancé. “You watch yourself tonight, Malfoy,” Ron whispered in Malfoy’s ear after he’d checked on the wards again and was about to leave the room.

For most of the night, Ron kept his distance from Malfoy. He kept his distance from _most_ of the guests at the party. They weren’t his sort of people, and he wasn’t there to socialise. Ron did notice from the corner of his eye that there was a young wizard constantly looking at him. Every time Ron would turn to search the room, they’d lock eyes and the man would smile. Ron did a courtesy nod and looked away. It was obvious that Malfoy had noticed it too, because he’d scowl every time Ron would turn to look at Malfoy next. Ron simply shook his head and went about the check-up.

“What are you doing?” Malfoy asked, when he finally came up to Ron. 

“Erm...working,” Ron answered, muddled. 

“You’re flirting,” Malfoy accused.

“What?” Ron snapped, and a few of the guests turned to look at him. “What are you talking about?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“You keep flirting with _that_ bloke,” Malfoy answered, as though he were stating the most obvious thing in the world.

“I haven’t even talked to _that_ bloke. I just smiled to be polite.”

“I don’t like it!”

“Erm…” Ron was puzzled. 

“What?” Malfoy snapped this time. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re jealous,” Ron said.

“I am not! I’m just annoyed that you’re claiming to be doing your job and you’re simply flirting with a guest, who—I don’t even know who he is—you should go find out. I don’t think he was invited.”

“You just accused me of flirting with him, when all I did was smile. Now you _want_ me to go and talk to him?” Ron didn’t think Malfoy could get more ridiculous.

“Well, he’s not invited!”

“How do you know?”

“I should know, I created the—” Malfoy paused.

“Sylvia created the guest list,” Ron said, correcting Malfoy. “Maybe he’s someone important.”

“I doubt that,” Malfoy argued.

“Why?” Ron was on the verge of getting thoroughly annoyed with Malfoy again. Why did this man always want to argue?

“Because he looks like someone who lacks taste,” Malfoy answered, and looked around the room. He pointed at one of the helpers, and grabbed a glass of champagne.

“Because he is eyeing me?” Ron said. “Is that why, he lacks taste?”

“What? No—”

“Right, enjoy your party, Malfoy.” Ron walked away from Malfoy feeling sickened. He couldn’t believe he’d made such a big mistake. Malfoy was still a discriminating prat who only cared about status; he didn’t care about Ron. Ron had been so stupid. Malfoy had shagged his previous bodyguard as well, it’s what he did, and Ron had simply played into his game.

Ron was standing in the other corner of the Hall, when he saw Malfoy put down his glass of champagne and charge towards him. 

“That is _not_ , what I meant!” Malfoy said, but Ron wasn’t in the mood to listen.

“Listen, Malfoy. Why don’t you just go and entertain your _classy_ guests and leave us minions be so we can do our job, alright?”

“Not until you listen to what I have to say!” Malfoy insisted and Ron groaned irately. The guests turned to look at Ron again, and some even frowned. 

“Evidently, my actions are tasteless to your guests as well,” Ron said. He removed his wand and cast a _Muffliato_ so he could whine and groan as loudly as he wanted. “What in the bloody hell do you have to say to me?”

“I said that _that_ Diagon Alley-second-hand robe shopper lacks taste because that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s wearing robes that we had _donated_ to Second Time Around. Those robes have not been in the market for a while now, and for someone so young to be wearing them—means that that’s where they bought them at. This…” Malfoy pointed at the party around them, “...is a fundraiser, that means most of the people that are attending are pureblood wizards or simply rich wizards in general. They wouldn’t wear something that was so out of fashion, _and_ I think that the only thing he’s done all night that is remotely tasteful is eye you. Which, I am going to pop his eye out for, by the way…”

“You shagged your previous bodyguard.” Ron crossed his arms and stared down at Malfoy.

“So?” Malfoy asked as though it was the most preposterous thing Ron had ever said.

“So, that’s what you do, don’t you? Shag your help and move on? You were all turned on because I saved your life, and you just wished to thank me, thinking—”

“That’s what you think? Merlin, you’re still dumb as a —”

“Wait…” Ron said, interrupting Malfoy. “ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Ron whispered when he saw Sylvia approaching them.

“Mr Malfoy, Ron, what a wonderful party it is,” Sylvia said as she held onto two champagne glasses in her hand. 

“Yes, it’s great,” Malfoy answered, dryly. 

“Here, Mr Malfoy, I brought you your champagne glass, and one for you too, Ron. You’ll have some won’t you? We’re just about to do a toast!” Sylvia handed the glasses to Ron and Malfoy. Ron was still livid from his conversation with Malfoy that had been interrupted before he’d gotten his point across, and was oddly annoyed at Sylvia for interrupting them.

“Who’s giving the toast?” Ron asked. 

“Our Chief Financial Advisor, of course!” Sylvia answered and turned to face the focal point of the room where the said Advisor had been standing. 

Ron looked at her hand and she was holding onto a small phial that he thought that she was desperately attempting to conceal. He looked over to Malfoy’s champagne glass, it was the same one was he’d been drinking before. Ron didn’t understand why Sylvia had brought an old glass for him when the wait staff was walking around the room with fresh new glasses. 

Malfoy was just about to place the glass on his mouth when Ron touched his arm softly and shook his head. Malfoy looked confused but didn’t react. He lowered his arm and got a foot closer to Ron. Ron looked around the room, he was looking for the young man he’d spotted earlier, the one that had Malfoy all riled up. 

“Sylvia, where is that other bloke I saw you talking to earlier?”

“Who?” she said. Now she was definitely trying to conceal something.

“The one with the old robes,” Ron said. Might as well, Malfoy was quite adamant about the kind of robes the man was wearing. A look of panic flashed across her eyes for a moment and it looked as though she stumbled for a moment. “Malfoy, give me your glass.” Taking the glass from Malfoy’s hand, Ron offered it to Sylvia, “drink from it,” he said.

Sylvia shook her head and looked terrified. “I can’t,” she said.

“Why not?” Ron demanded. “Drink from the glass, Sylvia, or tell me why you can’t.”

“It’s poisoned.” Ron pointed his wand towards Sylvia’s feet and placed a spell so she wouldn’t be able to move. 

“So what was supposed to happen? Malfoy was just going to drop on the floor, and you thought no one would notice?”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. The poison doesn’t take effect for several hours…”

“And my glass?” Ron asked, offering his glass to her.

“It’s poisoned, as well,” she answered, and looked down with shame.

“But—why?” Malfoy asked, his voice was quivering with shock. “What did I ever do to you that was so horrible, that you want to _kill_ me?”

“It’s not just me,” she answered. Her voice was still hush and the rest of the party was going around as normal. 

“Who else is working with you?” Ron asked.

Sylvia looked up to meet Ron’s eyes, “Marcus,” she said.

Ron looked at Malfoy who was thoroughly confused. “It’s her fiancé’s name,” Ron told him. “You really need to pay more attention.” He turned to Sylvia to ask another question. “Where’s the other man?”

“He left. He was just some boy we hired; his job was to distract you, and then eventually Mr Malfoy, so we could slip in the potion in your drinks.”

“Where’s Marcus?” Ron asked. 

“He’s waiting in the gardens. I’m supposed to meet him after it was done and—”

“Well, I’ll go meet him now, then.” Ron raised his hand and the two Aurors that were guarding on the other side of the room came rushing towards them.

“But...I still don’t understand!” Malfoy said, placing his hand on Ron’s arm. “Why?”

“Marcus…” she said, slowly. “His name is Marcus Gaunt. He’s the last surviving pureblood wizard of the Gaunt family, and they used to own at the fabric shops in Europe. Their business had been declining severely and they’d offered to buy—”

“They’d offered to buy me out, several times, and I refused.” Malfoy looked at Ron with the most wounded eyes, Ron wanted to just lean in and hold him.

“This is all over some fabric?” Ron asked, sneeringly. 

“It’s not just that, it’s his—everything. When we’d gotten together, he’d asked me to help him gather trade secrets, help him with the business. But I couldn’t give him any information that was useful because of the —”

“The business practices,” Malfoy said. 

“Yeah, so he offered to buy out the business. Then it only got worse, his obsession—and I got sucked into it more and more...I am so sorry, Mr Malfoy.”

Ron could tell that Malfoy was falling for her sob story. Regardless of the fact that she was sorry or not, she had just tried to murder him and Ron. Ron wasn’t as forgiving. He was surprising that for a Slytherin, Malfoy was being so...compassionate. Perhaps he had changed.

“Stay with her,” Ron said to one of the Aurors and then turned to the other. “Come with me.”

Ron went out to the gardens and with the help of the other Auror arrested Marcus Gaunt. Ron along with the two Aurors, used the Floo Network to travel to the Ministry with Sylvia and Marcus in custody. Sylvia had confessed to almost everything immediately, earning herself a lesser punishment and the Aurors were going to use her testimony to bring in all the charges towards Marcus Gaunt.

Mrs Malfoy wrote to the Head Auror, Harry Potter, and the Minister that she was thoroughly impressed with Ron’s performance and his swiftness of catching the culprits. He had been so clandestine with his actions that barely anyone had noticed at the party that something was grimly wrong. 

She even encouraged that Ron Weasley be given a promotion and a higher rank amongst the Aurors. Harry joked that she would have had another opinion if in fact she had caught Ron and her son shagging.

Ron was impressed with how through Gaunt and Sylvia’s plan had been. When she’d figured out that Malfoy was attracted to Ron, they’d decided to use him as a pawn. She had dropped several hints regarding Malfoy to try to appeal to Ron’s nature, eventually, also telling Ron that he turned Malfoy on. Ron couldn’t help but wonder, if anything Sylvia had said initially was actually true. What happened between him and Malfoy, was it staged, or would it still have happened if she hadn’t said anything in the first place?

*-*-*

After everything was settled, and it was ensured that Malfoy was finally safe to leave his house without proper protection, Ron returned to the Ministry.

“I’ve got your first mission,” Harry told him. “Everyone is very impressed with your work on the Malfoy case, and they think that you’re ready for a real challenge.”

Ron snorted. “They should go and work for Malfoy, then they’ll know what a _real_ challenge is.”

“So, Malfoy, huh?” Harry asked.

“Don’t say anything. It was a momentary lapse in judgement,” Ron snapped. It had been several weeks since the incident at the launch party and after things had settled down, Malfoy never reached out to Ron. Not that Ron reached out to Malfoy, either.

“Yeah? Is that why he’s standing outside the door waiting for you?” Harry asked, teasingly.

Ron immediately stood up. “He is?”

“No, but I can tell clearly, how much of a lapse in judgement it was!” Harry joked, and Ron threw a quill at him.

“Fucking, Harry. I am going to bloody murder you,” Ron groaned and sat back down on his chair.

“Okay, I lied, he really is waiting outside the door for you. I just wanted to see how you really feel about it.” Harry winked, and Ron and went to open the office door. He was right, Malfoy _was_ standing right there. “Remember to lock the door, if things get a little...heated.”

Malfoy walked into the office and Harry left, closing the door behind him.

“Good evening, Auror Weasley,” Malfoy said, walking into the office and looking around. 

“Malfoy…” Ron was at a loss for words; he didn’t know what to say.

“It’s good to know that I’m not the only one who thought it was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Ron said; it was the truth.

“So why did you just disappear after you caught your culprits?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow and sat on Ron’s desk, crossing his legs. His heated gaze not leaving Ron for a moment, and Ron felt heat rise in his cheeks. Bloody hell, he wanted to march over there and kiss Malfoy.

 _Kiss Malfoy_. A phrase he still wasn’t used to, and an act he enjoyed all too much.

“I left two Junior Aurors behind to guard the Manor while we dealt with the Trials.”

“Yes, your replacements were annoying.”

“What, not gay enough for you?” Ron retorted. 

“This is what this is about then? You think I’m just the sort to sleep with the help—” Ron felt a blow to his chest when Malfoy uttered the words. _The help_. “No, I didn’t mean that—”

“Maybe you should go.”

“No.” Malfoy stayed seated on the desk, and placed his hands next to him. 

“No?” Ron couldn’t believe it.

“No,” Malfoy reiterated. “I want—”

“What? What do you want?” Ron tried to calm himself by counting to ten. He didn’t want to say something to only make the situation worse.

“You.”

“The help?”

Malfoy sighed and stood up from the desk. “Kiss me. Tell me you don’t want the same thing… besides my poor choice of words.”

“I’m sorry, Ministry policy dictates we must not cohort with our clients—”

“Bloody hell, Weasley. Do you ever _shut up_?”

“Do you?” Ron retorted.

“I do when I’ve got your cock in my mouth.”

Ron knew he was turning visibly red. “Malfoy—”

“Tell me, you don’t want your cock in my mouth? You don’t want me to sit on the desk and open those trousers up and pull out that erection you’ve had since I walked in?” Malfoy returned and sat on the desk again. 

“I—”

“Tell me you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you relentlessly?”

Ron was hard. He’d been aroused since Malfoy had sat on his desk in the first place; and now, his cock was twitching at the thought of being bent over at the desk…”

“For fuck’s sake!” Ron marched over to Malfoy and pressed his lips against Malfoy’s as he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him up. He felt Malfoy’s hands immediately reach for Ron’s trousers and began to unbutton them. “Want you…so much,” Ron uttered as they broke apart, both panting for air.

“Then let me…”

Ron allowed Malfoy to push down his trousers and pants and take his cock in his hand. Without another word, Malfoy leaned in and took Ron’s heat in his mouth; licking the head then lowering his mouth more and more until Ron’s prick hit the back of Malfoy’s throat.

“Gods, Malfoy…” Ron was reminded of how wonderful it had felt the first time Malfoy had done this to him and how he’d missed it. Malfoy’s tongue was as devilish as him, and Ron wasn’t sure he approved of his desires. Yet, he couldn’t help himself.

Trying not to think about anything else, but Malfoy’s tongue, Ron began counting in his head as his fingers grabbed Malfoy’s hair and guided his head into a steady rhythm. Then Ron was coming, and Malfoy was still sucking, licking him. 

“My turn,” Malfoy said as he let go of Ron’s limp cock and hopped off the desk.

“What do you want?” Ron asked, nervously. 

“What do _you_ want?” Malfoy asked, smirking. 

“That thing you said...about the desk…”

Malfoy’s grin grew wider and he reached in his pocket for a small phial. “I was hoping you’d liked that!” he said and pushed Ron against the desk. He quickly removed his robes and slithered some lube in his fingers. Malfoy slowly pushed a finger inside Ron and Ron moaned. He couldn’t believe that _Draco Malfoy_ was about to fuck him. He should have been repulsed at the thought; however, he felt that the moment couldn’t come fast enough.

His moans only earned him more fingers inside him as Malfoy slowly entered another one. 

“I don’t know how long I can wait…” Malfoy whispered as Ron felt Malfoy’s erection against his leg as he pressed back.

“Don’t wait...I need you…” Ron bit his lower lip for uttering the word _need_. He knew that was only going to come bite him in the arse, eventually.

Ron could imagine the smirk on Malfoy’s face as he chuckled and pulled out of Ron. In a matter of moments, Malfoy had lined his cock against Ron and pushed in. Ron tried to hold onto the desk for support as Malfoy began pushing in and pulling out of him slowly. 

“Merlin, this is better than I…” Malfoy was moaning as well and his thrusts only sped up with each sequence. He grabbed tightly onto Ron’s hips and began fucking him earnestly. In the beginning, Malfoy seemed to have control over his plunges, but as Ron continued to moan with pleasure; Malfoy only lost more and more control.

He was spilling inside Ron and mumbling incoherently. Ultimately, he stopped, but he remained inside Ron and his head rested on Ron’s back. 

Ron felt a bit of emptiness inside him as Malfoy pulled out. “Bloody hell, that was…”

“I can’t wait to go home and do it again,” Malfoy said, grabbing his wand and spelling them both clean. 

“Again?” Ron asked. He saw the look of disappointment on Malfoy’s face and realised that his question came across the wrong way. “I mean, bloody hell, buy me dinner first, Malfoy.”

Malfoy smiled and bit his lower lip, looking relieved. 

“And don’t do that at the restaurant, I might have to take you on the table otherwise.”

Malfoy snorted and began getting dressed. “I know a place we can go, and we can probably rent a room in the inn above.”

“Why do we need to rent a room?”

“Think about where we both live,” Malfoy said.

Ron nodded frantically. He couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, inn. Sounds loads better.”

_The End_


End file.
